


Straight to the Point

by CAPSING



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: (kinda?), Ableism, Ableist Language, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety Attacks, Canon Disabled Character, Everyone Are Legal Adults, Gender Issues, Jewish Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Levi and Erwin are besties, M/M, Manga Spoilers - Chapter 49, Misunderstandings, Substance Abuse, in their own special way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-04 01:25:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6635353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CAPSING/pseuds/CAPSING
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erwin is not gay. Until he is.<br/>(Meanwhile, Levi struggles to invite Eren over for Passover.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Point

**Author's Note:**

> Hello SnK fandom!  
> I’ve noticed the mystifying lack of Jewish Levi around?? There’s like 20 fics maybe? So here's my contribution.
> 
> My thanks to [drsquee](http://drsquee.tumblr.com/) for the moral support and her help!
> 
> As always, I have songs for you to enjoy while reading. Two are within the fic, and one is [ here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cy1LdAaGASw).

Erwin Smith was not what one would call _picky_.

The following evidence supported this claim, as he did not:

  * Correct people during a conversation; not the grammar nor their misinformed claims (even when they were bluntly wrong).
  * Turn his nose at a meal or at a wine choice while eating out.
  * Pick his nose (where other people could see).
  * Pick on people (his own size or otherwise, though people tended to be smaller than him).
  * Pick fights.
  * Pick other people’s pockets.
  * Pick at his least favorite vegetables while eating a salad



 

Moreover, he held from cherry-picking arguments while holding a friendly debate.

Still, despite those persuasive arguments to his favor, people talked.

In those conversations revolving around his love-life–  or more accurately _lack-of_ such, the word ‘picky’ came up more times than any. How else would you explain the fact that at thirty-four, Erwin Smith, a down-to-earth, serious, handsome attorney who has been granted tenure on the highly prestigious firm of ‘Maria-Rose and Sina LLP’, hasn't settled down yet to have his assigned wife along with their two point four children, American Dream personified, surrounded with the obligatory white picket fence (dog optional, opting for a German Shepherd).

 _Gay_ , some whispered over their turbid coffee between quick bites and short breaks, only to be shot down moments later by their colleagues.

 

Erwin Smith was decidedly _Not Gay_ ™ _._  

 

He dated many successful, bright and attractive women; not that he shared any of it amongst his peers, but he was well-known, only just enough to make it to sources favored by the many gossipmongers who lurked at the firm. Smith, those people claimed, hadn’t managed to hold to any of his partners, as he was so very _picky_. He turned them away, always hoping to find an elusive woman who is _more_. Like many, it seemed Smith have fallen from the grace of logic to the act of swiping his fingertips left and right, eager to throw away a rough gem for the mere possibility of a better option. No one was exactly sure what kind of _more_ Smith had in mind, for, while friendly, he did not have many friends.

 (He had two of them. Two meant they were of multiple amount, which Erwin found to be an accomplishment.)

With his imposing height and a sharp tongue, Smith could slay a person’s pride without even taking his eyes off the computer screen, casually typing as he gutted them through and through. Gossip was an amusing pastime, but not worth risking a chance of a nervous breakdown (like poor Chad from accounting experienced first-hand; no one managed to dub the poor man of the words exchanged before or during the incident, and he had to be escorted to the closest emergency room to be stuffed with a heavy dosage of valium before being sent to a non-paid leave by the higher-ups).

(No one was also foolish enough to try and ask Smith for answers).

With a thick heavy veil cloaking the mystery of Smith’s personal life from their prying eyes, people were left with no options but to gossip and whisper and assume. Their theories varied from the reasonable to the petty to the absurd, but had one main thing in common – they were, without an exception, entirely wrong.

The truth, in fact, was quite simple.

Erwin Smith, successful man in his prime, just happened to live vicariously through the personal lives of his friends – and at the moment, half of them were thoroughly _smitten_.

(It was probably telling of him, to have one friend constantly threatening to cause him physical harm, and the other friend to be the one that cut off his arm. Telling of what, though, he wasn't so sure, since he never cared to inspect the subject.)

Erwin Smith was not picky, but he did know to pick his battles.

Love was a battlefield, after all, and Erwin wouldn’t leave one of his two precious comrades to fight by himself.

*

Listening was a quality Erwin certainly hadn’t lacked. As an attorney, he specialized in listening carefully to words spoken aloud in order to pick them apart and reassemble them in a way which suited him most.

Levi, however, wasn’t quite good at it, which was probably why he startled visibly when the elevator’s door pinged open. As the door rattled open, Erwin gently nudged Levi forwards, while the man stiffly stepped outside. The bass carried from the end of the hall, thrumming under their feet.

 

“It’s too late to walk away from it now, Levi.”

“No it’s not.”

“Perhaps not,” Erwin agreed. “You could live to regret it.”

Levi ground his teeth together, expression darkening. He stood at the hallway, rigid and gloomy, like a man heading towards a battle already lost with a plastic spoon as his weapon of choice.

 

“Come now, Levi. We’ve been through this. He has no reason to refuse.”

“Your shitty brain can’t think of any. Doesn’t mean there ain’t reasons.”

“Ever the optimistic.” Erwin sighed. They still haven’t moved more than a step towards their destination. “I’m sure he’ll be charmed.”

“I doubt that Passover food could charm anyone. Only you and your shitty tastebuds–“

 “It’s exotic.”

“It’ll get him constipated for a month.”

“You’re overreaching.” That earned him a glare, which he deflected with a bright smile, full of straight white teeth. “A week, tops.”

Erwin had been arguing for a living for years. He could do this (and had done so in the past) sleep-deprived and sick, with one arm tied behind his back – which would leave him with no arms at all at his disposal – and _still_ hold the upper hand.

 

“This was a shitty idea,” Levi grunted. “I shouldn’t have listened to your shitty advice. We’re leaving.”

Then he turned on his heel sharply, and smashed his fist against the elevator’s button. The plastic groaned, but was thankfully left intact.

Erwin knew Levi would regret this later on. Since he was such a good friend, who treasured Levi’s best interests above all, he set to correct Levi’s path, which only led to further agony and grief.

He grabbed the back of Levi’s jacket.

 

"No running away."

"Let go of me." Levi said levelly, in the quiet, composed tone he used when he was moments from snapping  and/or committing violence.

Levi did not deal well with the throes of love, yet Erwin was there to support him in his surmounting endeavors.  

“One day you’ll thank me for this–“

"I'll break your hand. I’m not kidding, shithead. I don’t care you’re a cripple –" 

Erwin Smith was a good friend, and he was not picky. That's why he chose not to pick any of the profanities his friend spouted towards him, and tuned out the entire thing as he dragged Levi in the right direction, onto the righteous path which would lead him to eventual prosperity, happiness and fulfillment.

 

"Just relax." He smiled serenely at him, exuding the confidence he had in spades. "Have some faith.”

A vein popped on Levi’s forehead. He made a mental note to mention it to Hanji; it couldn’t mean well for his blood pressure.

“Don’t you fucking–“

 

Erwin used his foot to tap at the door; Levi’s eyes widened slightly, like a deer moments away from meeting their maker.

 

The door opened, spilling music and warmth upon them. Erwin swiftly relinquished his hold on Levi, sending the man stumbling a few inches forwards before finding his balance.

 

"Captain Levi! You came!"

Erwin, very dignifiedly, did not twitch so much as a muscle at the exclamation. He was a man of poise and finesse.

The man at the doorway seemed young; he had bright green eyes and an athletic build, standing couple of inches shorter than Erwin. He did not seem to notice Erwin, or, in fact, anything else other than Levi; Erwin did not take offense, for this bode well.

"Here," Levi shoved the wine bottle into the man's hands, who accepted it with the sure grasp of a proficient goalkeeper.

"Oh, thank you–“ the man sputtered in a promising manner. “You shouldn’t have- not that I- I mean, come in–"

 

Erwin followed Levi and their host to a nice, cozy apartment, already buzzing with the conversations of a dozen people. The place felt quite homey; Ikea furniture mixed with mismatched chairs and stools, marked and worn by the passage of time. He hhung his coat on the rack next to the door, observing. Picture frames were scattered across the different surfaces, not a speck of dust on them. Erwin’s knowing eyes caught Levi surreptitiously brushing his index finger against the closest table, then rub it against his thumb. Levi raised his hand to inspect it under the guise of rubbing his nose. Erwin didn't need to see the pads of his fingers - just the expression on his face - stunned and dazed. To any others, Levi’s expression would translate as a man experiencing constipation. Erwin, however, knew each bowl-movement-related expression Levi could possibly conjure, and that was not it.

 _Love-struck_ , Erwin concluded. 

 

"Eren," Levi snapped at their host, confirming Erwin’s thesis. "Where's your vacuum cleaner?"

"Eh? The vacuum?” the man startled, “I'm not sure –"

"Go bring it." Levi pulled Eren down by his upper arm, glaring. “Now.”

 _Such a charmer_ , Erwin thought, fond. Knowing Levi, he wanted to make sure Eren’s vacuum was from a good manufacture and carried a decent brand-name; then, he’d want to teach him how to fold the power-cord properly and the right way to go through different surfaces.  
Levi was in too deep, and he seemed to be taking to drowning happily.

"Okay."

Erwin watched the man go as if Levi was the sole person in the party, bypassing guests in his assigned quest as if they’re meaningless, one-lined villagers of no import.

 

"You didn't introduce us," Erwin chided.

"No shit." Levi replied, crossing his arms across his chest, a pose he adapted when feeling insecure. They took to a stand a few feet to the side, near the wall. Erwin kept his expression amiable and empty, while keeping Levi from bolting away. Levi’s eyes kept darting around the room, nodding to several people before breaking eye-contact, lest they head their way for meaningless tiresome small-talk. Socializing was not one of Levi’s fortes. By the shape of his lips, Erwin knew he was grinding his teeth against each other again. He subtly leaned at Levi’s direction, surveying the other people mingling about. Levi and himself were easily older than the room’s demographic by a decade, no exceptions; he didn’t recognize the music playing in the background, but it wasn’t as dreadful as it could’ve been.

“The place is pretty clean, for a bachelor apartment.” Erwin attempted.

Levi grunted. Grunts were one of Levi’s main forms of communications, more so when he was stressed or tired. Erwin knew the different meanings the grunts conveyed after years of cataloguing them by way of trial and error; right then, Erwin decided it’s best not to push him.

“Punch?” Erwin offered, as he was meaning to head and get himself a drink.

“Don’t tempt me.” Levi shifted to roll his shoulders, which were knotted by tension and anxiety; something in his back popped loudly. “Besides, I’m driving us back.”

Erwin knew better than to argue with Levi over the matter, and let it drop. While being tiring at times, Levi’s tendency to stick to the rulebook was a trait Erwin appreciated, and certainly made Levi far more dependable and trustworthy than most people he knew or interacted with. He wasn’t a complicated guy (in that aspect, at least).

Erwin took to pour the man some water – Levi despised juice and alcohol (and anything fun) – while favoring a cheap beer for himself, for although he knew this brand tasted like horse piss, Erwin was not picky, and booze was booze. If he was to grow bored while surrounded by youngsters he’d certainly wished in no way or form to interact with, alcohol would at least help; it’d blur his eyesight, for one. Just enough so he wouldn’t have to deal with the stares that followed him from the table, seemingly marveled at his ability to carry two drinks with only one hand.

It took a few minutes, half a beer-bottle and three botched escape attempts from Levi, before Eren finally returned – empty handed.

 

"I'm sorry, Captain,” the man spoke, his expression channeling a small soaked puppy on a cold winter night on the streets, “I don't know where the vacuum cleaner is– my roommate must've misplaced it–"

"Don't bother finding it," Levi snapped as he unclenched his jaw. "It's probably shitty. Your carpet looks like the Sahara desert jizzed all over it–"

Erwin choked on his drink, looking away as he tried not to offend his host by spitting onto his face (like Levi was doing verbally).

"Are you okay there?"

Erwin coughed a few times more and turned around.

 

Time seemed to ground to a halt.

The screech it made sounded suspiciously like a chorus of angels.

 

The first thing he notices was the hair; caught in a loose, short ponytail, stray strands framing her round, soft face like rays of sunshine were spun into gold. Then there’s a dazzling pair of sapphires peeking beneath her bangs, along with a svelte figure effortlessly attractive under the most casual wear. She was short – shorter than even Levi – and her nose made Erwin want to press his finger against it each morning, as they woke up next to each other.

He blinked, and opened his mouth, which became strangely dry.

 

"Armin!" Eren's voice called with an inexplicable note of anxiety, "Levi!"

Erwin turned to his friend, feeling as if he'd been staring into the sun through a telescope and had to blink black spots away. He set down his bottle.

"Pleased to meet you," Levi said civilly, shaking her slender hand.

"Likewise. I've heard a lot about you, Levi," she smiled back, making Erwin reconsider a lifetime of aversion to group sports. “When Eren told me you could finally make it to the monthly get-together, I knew I have to meet the fam–“

“Armin!” Eren demonstrated his eloquence once more, trying to cover her cherry lips with his hand.

"I’m sorry,” she chuckled, swatting Eren’s hand away as she turned towards Erwin. “I’m not sure who’re you, though? Do you also play for Humanity? I’m Armin.”

“Erwin Smith,” he replied automatically, acting by manners practically drilled into his molecules, thrusting his hand at her. She instinctively reached with her right, then halted, and switched to extend her left hand.

She didn't giggle, or apologise, or look awkward about it.

Her hand was as smooth as it looked.

(Faintly, Erwin heard a wise woman chanting in his ear a sound advice [to adorn that delicate hand with a proper ring](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4m1EFMoRFvY), if he found himself extremely favorable of this lady.)

As if within a dream, he bent his considerable height, and brushed his lips against her knuckles, before looking up.

"A pleasure."

There had been sputtering – probably Eren – and the painful jab in his ribs must've been Levi.

Armin's face turned bright red, like a blooming rose.

"[He's European](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6LN_L85b2zQ)," Levi exclaimed unnecessarily, as Erwin regretfully had to let go of Armin's inviting pearly skin.

"Just because you were raised by wolves in a swamp," Erwin said pleasantly, ignoring the weight digging into his expensive dress shoe and keeping his eyes on Armin’s rosy cheeks, "doesn't mean the rest of us can't show common courtesy."

 

"Eren Jaeger," Eren strode between Armin and Erwin like a short-sighted bull, nostrils flaring. He barged straight into Erwin’s personal space, face contracted and full of suspicion. Erwin reconsidered his impression anew; rather than a puppy, Eren was more of a bristling kitten. That was good – cats were clean. Cats were much better for Levi than dogs.

"Nice to finally meet you, Eren," he shook his hand and let Eren squeeze a bit too tightly in an unsubtle effort to break it, "I've heard you're quite the goal-keeper."

Just like that, Eren deflated, his blush colouring his ears first and darkening his skin further. The palm resting against Erwin loosened, then melted into jello. Eren was not an unattractive man, Erwin mused, and it wasn’t as if Levi wasn’t familiar with the concept of mood-swings. There was a good chance Eren would grow out of his tantrums, considering.

 

"You – you have?" it seemed to Erwin like it took all of Eren's willpower not to look at Levi, to either deny or confirm the claim.

"Humanity's last hope to win this year's cup, wasn't it, Levi?" Erwin felt Levi's boot crushing against his shin; he barely budged.

Legs were limbs he had to spare.

 

‘The Humanity’ was the local neighborhood soccer-team. Unknown numbers of years ago, someone thought it would make a swell name for a team, since, when they were announced to the field, one could call:

“ _Oh, the humanity_!”

That very someone had funding. Funding made customized uniform and equipment. Moreover, changing the name at the registry cost extra (though they had the option of Erwin signing the relevant papers for free).

As a result, reluctant as they were, they’ve kept it. When Levi joined the team it wasn’t much of a team as much as a group of people kicking a ball around. Levi, however, was a natural born leader– his inability to put up with anything less than perfect made it impossible for him to be anywhere other than the top. His human relations abilities might be horrid, but he had the talent to aspire people to try their best (in rather unorthodox methods, at times). He was proclaimed Captain before long – his aggressive play made him a fearsome opponent; much like his training regime. Erwin have seen Levi go through a variety of sports – from fencing to wall-climbing, but it seemed group sports offered something more (namely: Eren).

What more, is that behind every great man and freshly-assigned soccer-team captain who sucked at coming up with any sort of formations or plans that didn’t involve kicking the problem head-on, there was a man who took upon himself to learn every possible thing about soccer and to fill that gap. Said man spent entire weekends dedicating himself to the cause, and came up with the most fitting strategy that had Humanity winning in their match against The Titans for the first time in living memory.

 

Not that Erwin kept tabs or anything.

 

(But enough backstory – there’s bad flirting to be had! When we last saw them three paragraphs ago, our heroes were awkwardly interacting with each other, with Erwin being Levi’s helpful wingman and Levi kicking him in the leg.)

 

Levi grunted noncommittally like the grumpy bridge-troll he was inside.

Eren’s eyes turned to Levi, wide and hopeful.

“You really think so, Captain?”

Under his glower, Erwin could tell Levi was downright mortified; he used his eyebrows like a line of defense – the lower they were, the higher were his anxiety levels.

 

"Could you help me get some more ice, Erwin?" Armin voice interjected gently, as if ‘no’ was an option Erwin could utter during this lifetime or the next.

"Gladly," he ignored Levi’s pointed glare (of heart-wrenching distress) and followed her to the kitchen.

A man makes his own destiny, after all, and Erwin never cared much for his until that moment.

  
The kitchen was a mess of clutter; abandoned red plastic cups, scattered Lays bags and other party supplies in disarray. It was safer to Levi not to approach the perimeter.

 

"There's no need for more ice, is there?"

"No," she admitted, looking slightly guilty and avoiding his eyes. "Thanks for coming anyway."

"It's no hassle," Erwin said, "to be dragged away by such a beauty."

She quickly coloured again, sputtering in an adorable way.

When Levi told Erwin Eren had an exotic looking friend, it was not quite what Erwin envisioned; but how could one envision such a being? It was beyond the realm of possibilities, for mortal men. Erwin was entrapped; he couldn’t remember ever feeling this way, for any women he had ever met.

And it’s been barely three minutes.

 

"Please– please don't make fun of me," she exclaimed, the strain in her voice sounding most peculiar, deepening her words. "I know that I look–"

"Stunning?" Erwin cut in.

"Girly," she finished, still not looking at him, "but that doesn't mean–"

"I'm sorry," Erwin apologised quickly before the conversation took a turn it could never recover from. Running quickly through the last minutes to note  a possible misconduct in his actions – maybe she disliked having her appearance remarked at, though Erwin couldn’t fathom who could tease her such. Unfortunately, he was sorely out of practice in the art of flirting and way too eager.  
Hanji’s voice came to his mind, berating him for commenting on the appearance of a stranger; then the tone grew harsher and shriller, when he recalled their initial introduction.

_What a fool he was!_

 

Amends were to be taken immediately.

 

"I shouldn't have assumed," and he shouldn't have – getting her hand kissed by a complete stranger. That was sexual harassment. From an attorney, no less. Erwin felt every bit the privileged straight-white-cis-man Hanji always ranted about. He cringed and hoped she would find it in her undoubtedly gracious heart to forgive him.

“I meant no offense by that–“

“N-None taken!” Armin said, seemingly judging his sincerity with indirect glances, tugging at the collar of her buttoned-up flowery blouse.

“It’s just… I’m not used to…”

“I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable. I was completely out of line. It was not my intention–“

 

His heartfelt apology was abruptly cut short, as movement blurred between them, taking shape to collide against Armin.

"Armin!" another woman threw herself at Armin, seemingly out of nowhere, causing Armin to stumble forwards. She grabbed at her shoulders, looking frantic. The expression, combined with her brown ponytail, made her seem a bit like Hanji with a smaller nose. Nothing like Armin’s nose, though, he admired – you just didn’t come across such upturned noses nowadays (in the genetic sense of the term, that is). He hoped their children would get Armin’s nose.

Then, he briefly considered drowning himself in the sink rather than face the mortification this thought caused him. His peril went unnoticed, of course, because Erwin wore whichever expression he willed to make, and none else. He guzzled down more beer to loosen his tight throat.

 

"The salsa-dip!” The woman cried out. “It's _gone_!"

"It's not gone," a young man followed her, face grinning, "It’s being digested. You've eaten it all!"

"Armin!" the woman continued to whine, "I'm hungry!”

“Sasha, can’t you just–“ the man started, only to be sharply cut off.

“You can’t eat Doritos with no salsa-dip! We’re not stranded in the wilderness, Connie! We live in a civilized society!” Sasha growled at him, turning an imploring gaze at Armin. “Don’t we, Armin?”

"I don't know how to make a Salsa-dip," Armin peeped, sounding panicked.

 _Force Majeure_ , Erwin thought.

Even in her plight, Erwin couldn’t help but note the way her ears were perfectly proportioned, compared to the distance between her shoulders and her elbows. The lobes seemed plump and inviting, peeking between curtains of silky hair, and he longed to reach and fondle them between his fingertips.

He silently thanked divine intervention, vowing to visit his local Church this very Sunday (even if the pastor was somewhat of an insufferable fanatic with a serious case of grandiose-complex).

 

( _“What do you mean you don’t know how?” Levi barked. “Look at this junk!” He shoved the jar they just unpacked upwards into Erwin’s face. “Look at this list of preservatives. You can’t even say those names out loud. Are you actively trying to give yourself cancer, now? How fucking hard do you think shoving tomatoes with some shit into a blender is?!”_

_“I don’t have a blender,” Erwin tried to defend himself, unwisely. That evening he found out that in anything Kitchen-related, Gordon Ramsay was the personified definition of tranquility compared to Levi.)_

 

"I'll do it," Erwin said with all the bravado of a man about to save a baby from a pit of starving crocodiles with laser-beams shooting from their eyes.  
"Where do you keep your blender?"

 

(Erwin considered, not for the umpteenth time that night, buying Levi a large basket of organic cleaning products, and to tie it all up with a rainbow bow.)

(The moan Armin made after tasting the dip had Erwin excuse himself, and make a dignified retreat to the bathroom.)

 

*

The rest of the evening passed all too quickly.

Armin, as she told him after her friends went on to stuff their faces someplace else, has known Eren ever since they were little kids. He's like a brother to her, as she had no siblings.  Erwin concluded it must mean she’s of Eren’s age-group of early twenties, and picked himself another beer bottle to postpone that certain issue from entering his mind. Unlike Levi, who was in his late twenties, Erwin was well into his mid-thirties. That was Karma biting him in the ass, and chewing it thoroughly.

 

( _They’ve known each other for three years, when Levi first told Erwin about a shitty brat that gets mud everywhere. Over the course of the following year, Eren’s name slowly starts creeping into every other conversation they have – Erwin isn’t sure Levi’s even aware of it._

_Levi, who hadn’t dated anyone in the past decade. Hadn’t as much as hinted of any romantic or sexual inclination, and regards most humans as overlarge pests he tolerates at best._

_Turns out, Levi was very much aware._

_“He sounds like a very interesting yo–“ Erwin cleared his throat. “Man.”_

_“Fuckin’ hell, Erwin.” Levi buried his face in his hands, on his sixth shot. “I’ve turned into a cradle-robber. I’ve dunked head first into a huge steamy pile of shit. This is my life now.”_

_Erwin patted his shoulder. “So,” he pondered out loud, “is he gay?”_

_“I hate you.”_

_“I’ll think I’ll come to your next practice. I’ve always– “_

_“If you set foot in my court, I’m taking your shitty prosthesis and shoving it up your prissy ass.”_

_Later that night, Erwin tells Levi he’d wash the dishes and helps him to bed, as Levi murmurs to himself in a mix of English and French. He took off Levi’s shoes and set them aside, laces tucked in; after Levi is tucked in and passed out, he rummaged through the meds cabinet for an Advil. He set two pills and a glass of water on the nightstand, and then went to make up the couch for himself, a familiar notion by now._

_Levi was his friend, and for Erwin, it meant much more than just a word or a title or a box to fit Levi into._

_Levi was his friend, and he deserved to be happy, even if he didn’t know it yet._

_  
Erwin spent most of that night awake and scheming; by the time Levi groaned awake, he had a plan._ )

 

Despite the years setting them apart, Armin and Erwin had bonded as they were washing the dishes (Erwin may have taken liberties in his usage of the contents of the cabinets for this exact purpose); she dried whichever plate or silverware he scrubbed (maybe considerably slower than he was capable of). When their fingers brushed, Erwin felt warmth blooming in his chest. He noted her blunt fingernails, and unbidden thought about the scratches they could leave on his back made his own cheeks tinge with red. It was improper to the extreme, yet at the same time exhilarating like taking a breath of fresh air after spending years living underground.

Armin did not make a fuss when he offered to help; just like when she shook his hand, she gladly accepted the help, not treating him differently. When they were done with the dishes, it was she who suggested collecting the ones in the living room, and Erwin was all too quick to oblige.

 

It was sad, really, how normal it all felt.

 

Erwin shouldn’t have been feeling surprised, but he was. People always assumed he needed help, like having two functioning arms was an obligatory requirement for every human adult. Without his right arm, it seemed he had lost his credentials as a productive member of the society; cashiers packed his groceries even when he told them he didn't need their assistance; people were giving him their seats on public transportation, scattering away in haste, as though his left arm alone couldn’t allow him to properly grasp the bus-straps, grab-handles or the poles; waiters would speak louder and slower towards him then towards his dates, like he was hard of hearing; baristas actually spilled his coffee over him (thrice thus far) in their frantic frenzy to help him with _something_.

But not Armin.

She was sharp as she was bright – both physically and mentally. As an English Literature major, Armin’s passion about books left his own pale by comparison; her enthusiasm was infectious, demonstrating vast knowledge, stretching from anywhere between types of edible mushrooms to colourful lores from around the globe. They fell into an easy, friendly banter over safe topics such as their interests. Her laugh was the sound of soft chime bells carried in a spring-scented breeze; Erwin would’ve washed dishes forever if it meant the night could last.

After no more dishes were left unattended, they kept to the kitchen in an unspoken agreement, away from the others. Erwin took another beer while Armin favored a soda with the taste of chemicals posing as actual fruits.

It might have been the alcohol he consumed quite freely that night, or the way his heart felt lighter than it has been in years, or perhaps a combination of both – that made him reveal his most intimate secret to her.

That was, of course, when Levi stormed into the kitchen.

 

"For fuck's sake," Levi barked, "how long has this been going on?!"

"Unlike some people," Erwin claimed happily, "Armin understands what being a collector–"

(– Levi faked a cough that sounded suspiciously like “ _hoarder”_ –)

"– is about," Erwin finished as if he didn't just hear that.

"You don't have to be polite to him, Armin. You don't know how he gets when he starts talking about his shitty –"

"– Exclusive –"

" – Map collection, he can go on for fucking _days_ about this shit. It’s like the History Channel, only ten times worse and without the aliens–“

"Maps," Erwin cut in, as he set the empty beer bottle against the counter with a bit more force than he intended, "tell a complex history– of places, of people, of societies long-gone. Each is a puzzle, waiting to be solved and deciphered by those willing to make the effort."

"I've wiped my ass with paper more complex than your shitty maps."

 

Levi seemed to be in a foul mood. His cantankerous nature taking over pointed that he had reached– and crossed by couple of miles – his personal limit regarding the length of time in which he could tolerate to withstand the company of other people in a closed, unhygienic living space. Along with the pre-existing anxiety and strain of asking Eren over for the holiday dinner while behaving himself, Levi probably needed to leave an hour or three ago.

 

( _“You think I’m making this shit up, to– what? To yell at you? Like I’d need a fucking excuse for that.” Levi had said once, bitterly, after they both had undergone very bad days and weeks and said stuff they shouldn’t have said out loud or to each other.  
“You think you’re so fucking smart, with your prissy Ivy-League education. Here’s a question, smartass – who the fuck do you think would choose to live like this?”_ )

( _Erwin swore to never so much as let his lips shape the words ‘neat-freak’ ever again._ )

 

However, Erwin had a rare moment in which he would merely not accept Levi’s justifiable bitchy meltdown. Call it sudden alpha-posturing. (Or the fact his father, with which he hasn’t spoken with in over twenty years, was the one who gave him his first map.)

 

“That’s why you take the paper with you each morning?” He grinned sharply at Levi. “The Sports section indeed holds unparalleled wisdom, and I’m sure Mother Nature appreciates the lengths you’d go to recycle.”

One could’ve cut the tension with a knife (which were readily available – in the plural sense – to all of the participating parties, and then some).

 

"Actually," Armin chirped, unmindful of the clashing testosterone in the air. "It sounds very interesting. You know, as a kid,” she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, “I've dreamt I'd be a cartographer when I’d grow up. Grandpa bought me a globe, and you could plug it in and it would light up. I’ve spent hours just looking at it, thinking about all those little lines. I’d look at the coasts of Greenland, and think… those little jagged lines I’m seeing were drawn by a person hundreds of years ago, a person who risked their life just to draw a map…”

She smiled at Erwin. Her two front teeth were closer together than normal, leaving a small gap between them and their counterparts.

“I’d love to see your maps, someday.”

 

(It was, in that moment, Erwin decided he's going to buy Levi a truck, then fill it with baskets of cleaning products. And have him assign the sitting arrangement at the wedding to his liking. Hell, he’d give Eren and him their own table and a lifetime supply of alcogel.)

*

It’s been years since Erwin felt he didn’t want to go back home, and instead stay and partake at any form of a social gathering. After exchanging phone numbers with a stuttering Armin while being glared down by Eren, he sent Levi to fetch their coats and made his move.

With a few carefully placed words ascertaining Eren’s participation in the upcoming holiday dinner, Erwin had managed to accomplish in a minute what Levi couldn’t manage in four and a half hours.

  
They walked back to the car in silence; Erwin knew Levi wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about Eren where Levi was sure other people could overhear them. The cellular phone in Erwin’s pocket felt warm, not just with radiation and overheating components, but with potential and the prospect of a glowing future.

 

"Eren seems like a lovely young man." Erwin attempted after Levi got on the road; the traffic-light changed to red and Levi grunted as he slowed the car down.

"Armin doesn't seem too bad, either."  Levi said after a moment, in the closest thing to an apology for his behavior he could muster. “Even got that weird map-bug.” He seemed to want to say more, then bit his lip, probably to forcibly stop himself from vocalizing his opinion on the hobby.

"Armin’s coming over to see the maps, this Tuesday.” Erwin licked his lips, feeling nervous. It was a silly thought, but he felt he had to share it – to say it out loud.

“I think it’s a date.”

“Of course it’s a date, you fuckin’ idiot.” Levi snorted. “We have GPS now. No one’s sitting through your map-rants _just because_. Wouldn’t have believed anyone would be willing, actually, even if they wanted to bang you. Not without a gag.”

The light changed to yellow, and Levi shifted the gear stick, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Me neither.” Erwin breathed out slowly, letting Levi’s teasing glide over him; beneath it all, Levi’s reassurance settled an unease in his stomach that had been bothering him throughout the evening. “Armin's not like any woman I've ever met."

Levi snorted, louder than before, then just barked out a laugh in a way that couldn’t have been the result of the changing green light ahead.

"I bet."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't give me this shit, Erwin." His friend sounded resigned; he pushed one hand through his hair, looking very tired.

"It’s been a long night for the both of us,” Erwin said diplomatically. “If you wouldn’t mind clarifying–“

" _Not like any woman_?" Levi repeated in a mocking manner Erwin didn’t appreciate.

"So I was cheesy," Erwin sighed, rubbing his forehead; this argument was truly pointless. "Fine, I see your point."

"… I don't think you do."

Erwin took a deep breath and exhaled, then twice more. It wouldn’t do for them to argue when they were both this tense; the blow-out they had two years ago had certainly been more than enough for their remaining life-spans.  

 

"What is it, then?"

Levi didn’t answer, only frowned. He seemed to be contemplating over a thought. Erwin didn’t push, knowing that there were times he had to wait.

 

"Riddle me this," he told Erwin, two minutes later. "If a person considers themselves gay, but they’re not attracted to woman, what is their gender?"

"You're spending too much time on tumblr. I don’t see how this helps this dialogue to the part where you explain– "

"Tumblr?” Levi snorted. “I’ve known Hanji for fourteen years. Tumblr is just scrolling through a visual of one of Hanji’s rants with porn popping in between. Don’t give me this shit.”

"Assuming we go with the binary Western perception, here, they're male." Erwin conceded to Levi’s question, raising an eyebrow at Levi. “Did Hanji put you up to testing me as some weird experiment? Are you recording this? You know I actually _do_ listen when Hanji speaks.”

“Good for you. Help yourself to a golden star, they’re in the glove compartment.”

"Levi, your point?"

Levi sighed, looking uncomfortable. That is to say, his right eyebrow shifted to a slightly downward angle, and a muscle in his cheek twitched twice.

"Armin is one of Eren's best friends. Remember that I’ve told you about them?"

"Yes,” Erwin did, as he was subjected to many, many panicked assumptions about said best friend and their possible effect on Eren (and Levi’s odds with him).  
“You've already told me this, his beautiful, exotic-looking –"

"No, that's Mikasa. Armin is Eren's _other_ best friend."

"But you've told me Eren has only one lady-frie–" Erwin frowned, sitting a little straighter in his seat. "Levi, you shouldn't out people like that, even to me–"

"Armin's not trans.” Levi snapped, stopping at another intersection. “Armin’s a guy, Erwin. A cisgender, heterosexual guy. With a pony-tail." He sighed, looking mighty uncomfortable. “I didn’t want to spell it out for you.”

“Apparently not that heterosexual." Erwin breathed out after moment in slight disbelief, taking a moment to examine what he was feeling and reassess the situation.

Levi was not one to joke often, when it was not related to his supreme toilet-themed-humour. And they both knew better then to use gender as the butt of their jokes.

 

(Entering the twenty-third hour into yet another graveyard shift, at the hospital at the other side of the city, Hanji sneezed.)

 

"No shit."

The light changed to green.

“I always told you you’re hot enough to have people go gay for you," Levi said, sounding smug about it, "guess it's finally happening."

" _You_ didn’t.” Erwin responded absentmindedly, still processing the information regarding Armin, despite the way his head was throbbing.

Levi leveled him _a look_.

“First, you brush your teeth _after_ you eat breakfast, and you don’t floss. Second, you wash your colours with your whites. I don’t care you’re built like a fucking Greek god or for your chiseled jaw. You’re a barbarian.”

“German, actually.”

“Pretty sure Conan is a name originating in Germany. Could be an ancestor, for all you know.”

“What does Eren have that I don’t?” Erwin pouted, ignoring Levi’s words. “I know I’m not that tanned,” Erwin sighed dramatically, attempting to swoon at a car not quite built for a man of his bulk. “But I can go to the beach. I can change, Levi. Give me a chance. It’s not fair you only let Eren catch your balls–“

“Are you done?”

“For now.” Erwin smirked, straightening back in his seat, only slightly woozy by the motion. It seemed, after the rush of endorphins and Armin’s rejuvenating presence had subdued, the alcohol he consumed by the bucket was making its presence known.

“Armin still agreed to go out. With me.” He went back to the further-more-interesting-topic – his chances with Armin. “Even though I don’t floss.”

There was a nagging thought in his head; an important thing Levi must know–

“He didn’t ask about the arm.”

“You can finally try to sell him that story where you fought off a grizzly and got it bit off.”

“Hanji’s a bit like a grizzly.” Erwin considered. He wouldn’t want to lie to Armin. A relationship built on lies could not last.

“You’re taking this awfully well.” Levi squinted at him. “You’re drunk.”

“A tad.”

Levi grunted. “That settles it. You only talk like a brit when you’re wasted.”

“I’m not wasted. I’m pissed.”

“Not in my car you aren’t.”

“Listen here, my good sir–“

Levi rolled his eyes, and Erwin chuckled.

“It’s not like I was in it for his privates.”

“Privates?” Levi gave his an incredulous look. “Erwin, it’s called a vagina–“

“I hate to break it to you, Levi–”

“You’re really fucking obnoxious when you’re drunk, Erwin.” He paused. “If you dare throw up in the car, you won’t be walking home, ‘cause I’d break your fucking legs.”

“You could shut me up if you’d tell me more about what you know about Armin.”

“It ain’t much.” Levi considered. “Eren spends lots of time with him. And he’s apparently not that straight.”

“Want me to keep him off your man?”

“You’re worse than indigestion.”

Erwin hummed. “No need for flattery, Levi. I’m already coming to the Seder. Is Eren’s?”

 “No.” Levi sighed, looking drained and resigned to face a bleak, Erenless future. “lt was shitty. I just stood there like a huge turd while he was trying to talk and all, but all I could think about was that I have to wait until I’d get the right moment to ask– and it never came up. So I didn’t.”

“You did your best.” Erwin offered magnanimously. “Luckily for you, I did better.”

“What?” Levi asked, pupils contracting.

“I invited Eren to the Seder.”

“You did what.” Levi asked again; multitasking was rather difficult, so Erwin took to explain once more.

“Armin, too. You’re welcome.”

 

Levi jerkily snapped his hand at the emergency lights, sharply turning the wheel to park at the side of the road, tires screeching. He breathed in and out shakily, grasping the wheel tightly until his knuckles turned white.

 

That was not the reaction Erwin had in mind.

 

“It was a proxy-invitation,” Erwin tried carefully, not wanting to stress Levi further; his friend’s distress was very much sobering. “I told Armin how nice Passover dinner is, and she- he, sounded interested, so I asked he-him if he’ like to come, then told him he should bring Eren, too. He said he’ll make sure Eren came too. I told him they could be Ushpizin and all.”

“Wrong holiday,” Levi choked out through his clenched jaw. Perspiration started breaking on his forehead, making it glisten under the street lights the broke through the windshield.

“They don’t know that.”

“Neither did you.”

“Catholic schools don’t teach that, I’m afraid.” Erwin tried to goad him out of his stress.

 

It didn’t work.

 

“Armin’s coming? With Eren?” Levi asked, eyes staring blankly ahead.

“Yes.”

“Armin’s coming.” He paled. “With Eren.”

Erwin wasn’t sure why Armin’s presence seemed so heinous to Levi – moments ago he approved.

 

“I can’t do this.” Levi said.

“Levi–“

“Erwin,” he shakingly gulped a lungful of air, then released it slowly. He did so three more times. It did not seem to help him. “Erwin. I don’t have a dish set for _five_ people.”

“Yes, you do–“

“A _kosher_ set. I don’t–  “ his eyes fixated on a point far into the dark street ahead of him.  He seemed lost.

“Levi,” Erwin said gently, “It’s okay. We can solve this. Okay? We’ll figure it out. There’s a whole week until Passover. It’s plenty of time.”

Wordlessly, he set his palm next to Levi’s thigh, knowing better than to touch him in this state; all contact must be from Levi’s own accord. Levi took his hand – his skin clammy and cold to the touch. Levi’s circulation wasn’t that great, yet his grasp was crushingly strong; people tended to overlook Levi because of his height, when in reality he was in much better shape than most people, holding considerable strength within his compact build.

Erwin didn’t bat a single eyelash at the rough treatment, letting his hand ground Levi to the present. Amusing himself as his own circulation was cut off, Erwin thought Eren should be thankful Levi couldn’t give birth, or he’d surely have squeezed the bones out of Eren’s hand during labor.

They sat in the car for an undefined amount of time, each to their own; unlike the rather horrid first time Erwin had to watch Levi undergo this while feeling helpless and useless, they’d figured out a rather acceptable routine. Erwin didn’t mind the pain in his hand; knowing he was helping Levi made it a small price to pay.

( _Knowing he was needed–_ )

Erwin was lost to his own thoughts before he felt the grasp on his hand gradually loosening, like a rusty chain relenting a link at a time.

 

“Better?” he asked, keeping his voice soft.

Levi nodded.

“Do you want couple more minutes?”

Levi nodded again, then heaved a great sigh and slumped back in the driver’s seat, digging his palms onto his eyes.

Erwin flexed his numb fingers carefully to allow his blood-flow to adjust back to normal, holding back from popping his knuckles, a sound Levi couldn’t stand on a good day.

Knowing they weren’t going anywhere soon, Erwin took out his phone, using the time to check his mail and flag his inbox by his colour-code system. Levi called him a workaholic, but Erwin just loathed being anything but efficient with his time.

“I don’t have a set,” Levi said, bringing Erwin back from the tedious void of his inbox.

“You could buy a new one,” Erwin suggested, putting the phone back in his pocket. “Couldn’t you? Does it need to be from a special sto–”

Levi straightened so abruptly Erwin couldn’t help but to startle.

“I could do that.” He spoke, like he was unveiling a precious truth that was withheld from him. “I could buy a new one. If no ones used it before, it’d be kosher for Passover.”

Erwin buckled back up.

“I need to get a new one.” Levi turned the emergency lights off. “We’re going to get one. A set for five.” He looked at Erwin with a guarded expression.

 _Now_? Some petulant part of Erwin’s mind whined. Erwin shushed it.

“That sounds great. A new set for a new tradition! It’d be my present for this year’s Seder, for my gracious host.”

“Don’t talk crap,” Levi snorted, turning his head to check the mirrors; he looked much less strained than he did a moment ago, though he was still paler than usual. “You don’t have to bring shit.”

Two-excrement-related words. Levi was feeling better already.

Erwin mentally petted himself on the back and kept ignoring the part in his mind that insisted he should get out of the car and get himself a cab.

“Mother raised me better than this.”

“And you still turned out like that.”

 

It was half past two in the morning. Erwin had a massive headache and a presentation to prepare to an upcoming case. He was hungry and tired and coming to terms he was a bit infatuated with a person more than ten years his junior, who also happened to be a man. His dress shoes felt stifling– he’d lost sensation in his pinky a while ago– and his armpits felt like they could use a shower. By the number of closed shops they drove past, Erwin was sure the night was still young.

 

Erwin Smith was not picky– but Erwin Smith was also a good friend, and when his friends needed him, he was always there to pick them up.

(Along with a kosher set of plates for six.)


	2. Epilogue

On Tuesday, Armin scored 'bisexual' on the Kinsey scale.

Erwin just scored.

**Author's Note:**

> [Happy Passover!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9KjFhykstys)  
>  Comments would be very much appreciated, this story took lots out of me.  
> (And would maybe encourage me to one day post the prequel I've written for this verse, of how Erwin met Levi and Hanji.)


End file.
